Like You  Always Are
by CircadianDance
Summary: By the time they're both naked and have somehow ended up on the floor, Audrey's rug bunched up and digging into Percy's back, Oliver feels like Percy never left. Percy/Oliver


**Title:** Like You Always Are

**Pairing:** Percy/Oliver

**A/N:** Can be seen as a semi-sequel to my story, 'Post,' but can also be read as a stand alone. Warnings for slashy Mcslash slash. This is DaitaiOtonashiiOokami, by the way, kids.

**Summary:** By the time they're both naked and have somehow ended up on the floor, Audrey's rug bunched up and digging into Percy's back, Oliver feels like Percy never left.

**Rating:** M

**Word Count:** 2,248

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><p>Oliver stood on Percy's stoop, perched precariously against the wooden rail, rain water dripping down his face. It had been three long hours since he had arrived, and, still, there had been no sign of Percy. There'd been sign of a cat, he'd noticed with a look of guilt. The food dish next to the door, with its little black and white fish swimming endlessly in a circle around the checkered glass, was all Oliver could concentrate on as the minutes ticked by. Percy had always talked about wanting a cat.<p>

He should've surprised him with one, then maybe he'd have never left. That would have been a grand, romantic gesture.

Every light in the house before him was off, even the garage and patio. The sun had gone down, slowly inching towards the horizon in a fashion that made Oliver wonder if it would ever set at all until it finally had. It had been a while, too long, in his opinion, since he'd seen Percy. Oliver had explained the break up to his parents back then as them having a 'falling out of sorts.' His mum had been devastated, said Percy had been the most polite man her Ollie had ever dated, and then proceeded to drill Oliver about what he had done to ruin the relationship.

It burned, even now. Of course it could _never_ have been Perce's fault. Even his _mum_ thought so.

Percy was not expecting him, so Oliver was not hurt that he still wasn't home. Percy had not contacted him, but Oliver hadn't been expecting him to. Pride was a silly thing, someone who has had their nose smashed to bits, blood streaming in their eyes as they fall sixty feet off a broomstick in front of their whole school knows this. Oliver thinks this may be the only thing he knows that Percy doesn't. Pride cometh before the fall. That, and maybe how to cook pasta properly. Percy had always been pants at cooking noodles. They had always come out either too soft or too firm, Oliver remembered.

The rain came in torrential yet sporadic bursts. The wool of his sweater felt heavier every time the downpour got stronger. It was like the wool swelled around him, soaking up every bit of water it could, and as soon as it would taper off, resigning itself to a light drizzle, the fabric released it all it all in a fell splat, drenching his trousers from the inside.

It was getting colder and his teeth were beginning to chatter. When he'd left his flat earlier in the morning, the air had been somewhat crisp, but his bundled clothing seemed overkill. Now they seemed like a mistake for another reason.

It was exactly five hours, forty-six minutes after Oliver had arrived at the corner of Main and Mulberry that Percy's shiny Muggle car pulled into the driveway, headlights rolling over Oliver, who was now sitting on Percy's concrete steps with his elbows on his knees and hands tucked beneath his chin, staring expectantly at the vehicle.

Oliver could tell Percy was nervous as soon as he'd stepped out of the car.

"Oh, Oliver," he grabbed his brief case and wand from the car and proceeded to shut the door, "Fancy seeing you, i-isn't it?"

Oliver's brows furrowed and he clenched his fists, rubbing the pads of his fingers against his palms to keep himself from saying something cruel.

"Oh, ya, just crazy, isn't it?"

Percy clears his throat and his long legs pass by, dark slacks clinging to him, and Oliver wonders how far Percy had parked from the building to be almost as wet as he was.

"So, Ministry got you taking Muggle rides to work, eh? Times seem to be changing." Oliver is desperate enough to attempt small talk as Percy fumbles with his keys, a sharp click symboling entry.

Percy stands inside the door and gestures with his hand for Oliver to come inside as he flips on several lights throughout the living room. He likes that, Percy not using magic for the simple things. Some things never change. Oliver quickly stands up and moves into the house before Percy has a chance to change his mind.

His house seems well lived in, Oliver notices. A tad more messy then the Percy he'd remembered. He supposed that had something to do with a family, now.

"Actually, I've had to have several meetings with the British Prime Minister as of late, there's talk of a Muggle-Wizard Interaction bill, but I doubt it will ever be passed on our end. The car we bought for the kids, they've several other children around the neighborhood they liked to play with, and you couldn't exactly Floo them over. I've been taking the car to work, just because it makes the Prime Minister feel a little more at ease in regularly working with a wizard, not that it's protocol or anything. Would you care for tea?" Percy is tripping over the last line by the time it comes out in a rush. "I didn't mean to bore you about work."

"No, no," Oliver spots the sofa, red and expensive, and awkwardly stands on the rug instead, trying not to glance at the puddles pooling around his feet.

"Ah, sorry, sorry, Oliver, where are my manners?" Percy's pained expression as he realizes Oliver must be freezing makes Oliver quip his lips. "Let me go see if there's anything I can get for you to dry off."

Percy goes down a hallway and into a darkened room. The light comes on, but all Oliver can see is Percy's shadow on the wall, shifting through what he assumes is a dresser. "Really, Perce, I don't wanna put ya out or anything."

"Don't you worry, I'm sure there's something of Ron's in here somewhere. He stays, sometimes, when he and Hermione get into it. Says he'd have more fun at Charlie's but probably starve. Doesn't seem to like to shop, that one."

When Percy comes back, he hands Oliver the clothes, a pair of black sweats and another sweater, this one maroon with gold trim. "Mum made that one. Ron left it here as his last resort sweater, it's a little lopsided on one end, you see. Anyway, I don't mind if you change right here, I'll go put some water on. You'll probably be really thankful for the tea once you're dry."

"Thanks, Perc-" Oliver started, but he was already walking into the kitchen, almost as if he was scared of something.

Oliver peeled off his sweater, the wool scratchy and clingy all at once, and then slipped off his own jeans, sliding them with somewhat difficulty over the fabric of his boxers. He slipped the new sweater over his head, and was surprised that it fit as well as it did, a little tight, but not uncomfortable. Ron must have grown a lot since Oliver had last seen him back in school. He had just retied the drawstring on the sweats as Oliver came back into the room.

"Kettle's on, shouldn't take too long." Percy let out a sigh and sat on one end of the couch, the lamp on the end table next to him illuminating his glasses. He's got bags under his eyes. Oliver puts his wet clothes on top of his shoes and leaves them on the tile next to the door. Percy's carpet feels warm and soft against the soles of his feet as Oliver makes his way to the couch, making sure to leave one cushion between them. Space is safe.

"So, how have you been?" Percy's voice is quite, and he tries to give a little smile.

Oliver shrugs, "Not too bad, I guess. Been pretty busy with the Cup coming up, but nothing I can't handle. Yourself?"

"Besides the obvious?" Percy chuckled. "Hectic. Molly's always a handful, but here recently it's been getting ridiculous. You'd think she was George's daughter."

Oliver smiles, but it's strained. Children. The whole reason Percy left in the first place.

"Sorry there's no towel, for your hair," Percy's apologetic look was the last straw. Oliver leaned over, and slowly slipped Percy's glasses from his face. Oliver's hands were trembling. "Guess I didn't realize she always did the towels."

She. _Her_. Oliver was glad Percy didn't say her name, but even the pronoun burned. The second reason they had fallen apart. It was almost her fault as much as it was Molly's. Always shamelessly flirting at the office. Percy had made so many jokes about her hitting on him when he had been with Oliver. How it had fucking _stung _when they'd started dating. And then Oliver had actually seen her. Only once, thank god, about two months after she and Percy had gotten together. They were eating at a cute little place in Diagon Alley, all giggles and politeness and Percy hadn't even noticed him. Too wrapped up in wooing her that his ex-boyfriend was right behind him and he never even turned around. And then she had looked up, and seen Oliver watching, and had smiled. Even remembering made his stomach ache with hurt.

"Why didn't you call me, Perce?" Oliver shuddered, nose a breath away from Percy's. "I would've been here for you."

Oliver is aware that he sounds desperate. He sounds desperate because he _is_ desperate.

Percy clears his throat, swallows and clears his throat again. "Well, I didn't want to, you know, ring you before I knew how I felt. I-I know I made a mistake, Oliver. I put my mother's happiness before my own, before yours, and-and now, now there are a lot of people hurt in this."

"It wasn't your fault, Percy. I was hurt, yes, but I could understand why you made your decision."

"I couldn't be so egotistical to think that you'd have me back after so long, and the paperwork hasn't even cleared, so I'm still technically a taken man. I wanted some time to think, I owed you some time to think. Audrey's still really torn up about it, she's taken the girls to her mum's, and she's having a complete fit about money, but I think it's just her way of trying to hurt me like she feels I did to her. She-she thinks it might have something to do with you."

"I haven't spoken to you in quite a few years, Perce. Why would she assume that it had something to do with me? Does she even know who I am?" Oliver can't keep the hurt from his voice. Molly had never known. None of Percy's family had known.

"Of course she knew, we shared everything together." Percy snaps.

And that hurts Oliver more than it should. Jealousy creeps along his gut and up to his mouth. He wants to hurt Percy back for falling in love a second time, regardless of how it had ended. Wants to make something up, even, because, god help him, no matter who he'd screwed he could never find another person he trusted like he'd trusted Percy.

"She wanted to know everything about our relationship, and, I think that's what made her start to hate me. She got really self conscious. Started freaking out if any of the men from the office asked me out for a drink after work."

Oliver's eyes flick to the portraits of Percy's daughters that sit on the end table next to the lamp. They look happy. For a second, guilt wells up in Oliver's gut and he can't breathe.

Percy closes his eyes and then kisses him.

Oliver sucks a breath in through his nose and draws Percy's lip into his mouth, sucking and caressing with his tongue. He's not sorry, he's not. This is how it was supposed to be. As Oliver slides a hand over and under Percy's shirt, the guilt disappears completely. Percy was _his_ first, Oliver tugs at Percy's lip, forcing it down so he can worm his way into Percy's mouth, the slick, wet flesh of Percy's tongue grinding back against his own. His hand is rubbing at Percy's hip, pressing into the flesh hard enough to bruise.

Percy's hands dart out and pull at Ron's sweater, the shirt sticking to Oliver's still damp skin.

"I missed you so much," is all Percy can gasp as he starts to cry, fingers fumbling for Oliver's drawstring, tugging it free, "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

Oliver sinks his teeth into the side of Percy's neck as he's tugging down Oliver's pants, the tendon soft against his probing tongue, leaving angry marks all along Percy's flesh.

"I think," Oliver licks a few of the tears from Percy's cheek, "I have some idea."

By the time they're both naked and have somehow ended up on the floor, Audrey's rug bunched up and digging into Percy's back, Oliver feels like Percy never left. Like they were still in their small, one bedroom flat on the second story, broke but happy. Waking up next to each other and getting so caught up in one another they end up having sex on the kitchen floor while their toast burns.

Oliver touches him, Percy arching against him, wrapping his arms around Oliver's middle and clasping his shoulders. His mouth attacks Oliver's chest as he runs his fingers over the muscles down the Keeper's side.

The freckles splashed across Percy's skin, Oliver thinks, are beautiful.

The kettle starts whistling, but they don't seem to notice.

-End

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><p>AN: God, I love this pairing. Also, I believe I have an obsession for people waiting on ex-lover's porches. Totally didn't realize I wrote a fic where Mello waits on Matt's stoop until he gets home until after I'd finished this one and was all attached. /ho hum

Hopefully you all still know who I am. Screenname change, yay. Please review D; /desperate noises


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